taken service with the
biggest and most inveterate old coxcomb who ever stuffed himself with
macaroni, to the patched Carnival fool who strutted about like a
satisfied old hen after a shower of rain, to the snarling skinflint,
the love-sick old poltroon, who infected the air of the Via Ripetta
with the disgusting bleating which he called singing? &c., &c.

To which Pasquarello, quite incensed, made reply that it was nothing
but envy which spoke in the Doctor's words; he (Pasquarello) was of
course speaking with his heart in his mouth (_parla col cuore in
mano_); the Doctor was not at all the man to pass an opinion upon
Signor Pasquale Capuzzi di Senigaglia; he was speaking with his heart
in his mouth. The Doctor himself had a strong tang of all that he
blamed in the excellent Signor Pasquale; but he was speaking with his
heart in his mouth; he (Pasquarello) had himself often heard fully six
hundred people at once laugh most heartily at Doctor Gratiano, and so
forth. Then Pasquarello spoke a long panegyric upon his new master,
Signor Pasquale, attributing to him all the virtues under the sun; and
he concluded with a description of his character, which he portrayed as
being the very essence of amiability and grace.

"Heaven bless you, Formica!" lisped Signor Capuzzi to himself; "Heaven
bless you, Formica! I perceive you have designed to make my triumph
perfect, since you are upbraiding the Romans for all their envious and
ungrateful persecution of me, and are letting them know _who_ I really
am."

"Ha! here comes my master himself," cried Pasquarello at this moment,
and there entered on the stage--Signor Pasquale Capuzzi himself, just
as he breathed and walked, his very clothes, face, gestures, gait,
postures, in fact so perfectly like Signor Capuzzi in the auditorium,
that the latter, quite aghast, let go Marianna's hand, which hitherto
he had held fast in his own, and tapped himself, his nose, his wig, in
order to discover whether he was not dreaming, or seeing double,
whether he was really sitting in Nicolo Musso's theatre and dare credit
the miracle.

Capuzzi on the stage embraced Doctor Gratiano with great kindness, and
asked how he was. The Doctor replied that he had a good appetite,
and slept soundly, at his service (_per servirlo_); and as for his
purse--well, it was suffering from a galloping consumption. Only
yesterday he had spent his last ducat for a pair of rosemary-coloured
stockings for his sweetheart,